In response to the requests of curious readers, I’ve put
together an entry further illuminating the Chinese system of athletic
development. Much like the Chinese system of governance, it was first
fashioned after the Soviet model before rapid modernization lead to certain
deviations.
The system has proved remarkably successful in
recent years. At Athens in ’04, China won 32 gold medals, only three fewer than
the Americans. Immediately after Athens, the
government instituted an ambitious national athletic initiative called Project
119. Choosing 119 medals in sports in which the Chinese Olympic Team
traditionally makes a poor showing or does not compete at all (such as boxing,
canoeing, archery, etc.), the government aggressively trained new athletes to capture these medals at the Beijing Games in August.
The Chinese system of athletic development begins on the
provincial level. Children are selected when they are still very young (usually
between the ages of six and nine) to join teams funded by provincial
governments. There are
34 province-level administrative units in China. Some provinces excel in
certain sports (Liaoning province in China’s northeast, for instance, is known for producing
outstanding ping-pong players).
Obviously, selection criteria differ from sport to sport,
but promising athletes are often distinguished by physical attributes such as
above-average height or flexibility. For example, when searching for gifted
boxers, the Chinese government first looks for children whose wingspan exceeds
their height.
Provincial governments nurture the young athletes, closely
monitoring their progress and subjecting them to rigorous training regimens.
The provincial athletic organizations then compete against one another in
tournaments that determine who will be chosen for the national team.
The entire system rewards success no matter what the cost.
As such, Chinese athletes are sometimes characterized as passionless automatons
driven only by the desire to win. Other countries routinely accuse China of
advocating systematized steroid abuse to achieve success, and in the mid-to-late 90s a series of
doping scandals rocked the national women’s swimming team (remember the enormous
latissimi dorsi on those girls?). Lasting repercussions remain.
Despite the importance of provincial governments in the
development process, talented athletes can still join the national team even if
they haven’t been cultivated by a state-sponsored athletic organization. An
example is Liu Xiang, who was discovered by the national team when he was already
15. Once an athlete joins the national team, his life becomes even more
structured and exhausting. Athletes often practice 7 days a week for hours on
end.
During the entire process, an athlete’s life is never
entirely his or her own. Because the Chinese government pays for their food,
shelter, and training, athletes are considered property of the state. An
athlete can neither fire his state-assigned coach nor marry without his coach’s
permission (in fact, weightlifter Zhang Guozheng is the only married member of
the Chinese national team). An athlete cannot endorse a product without the
central government’s permission, and athletes are discouraged from signing too
many endorsement deals because the government doesn't want champions of a
(purportedly) socialist state to appear preoccupied with making money instead
of winning medals.
When an athlete does endorse a product, he or she can only keep
half the earnings. The other half is divided up among the key components of the
Chinese system of athletic development: 20% of the earnings goes to the coach,
10% goes to the team (for example, Guo Jingjing gives 10% of her earnings to
the national diving team), 10% goes to a state athletic fund, and 10% goes to the home province. Because each province takes a cut of the earnings of its
stable of athletes, disputes sometimes arise over which provinces "owns" certain
athletes. An athlete can conceivably retire at any time, but upon
retiring he or she loses all support from the government. It’s hard not to pity
people with so little free will.